


Plot Bunnies

by onyxjay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, M/M, Randomness, What Was I Thinking?, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2019-10-11 19:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17452595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onyxjay/pseuds/onyxjay
Summary: Because I need to save them somewhere





	1. Not Quite What I was Expecting

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: nothing belong to me except for writing technique

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dursleys refused to let Harry go to Hogwarts. Snape is sent to Privet Drive, where he quickly learns that perhaps the Boy-Who-Lived is not so spoiled after all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Known pairing(s): Harry and Snape (Severitus)

"No."

Albus Dumbledore peered at the dark-haired man disapprovingly. "Now, Severus, we mustn't be so hostile to an innocent child."

"Innocent?" Professor Severus Snape spat. "He's probably been spoiled rotten, just like his father."

Dumbledore did not deny Snape's claim, but the Potions Master noted that he also didn't agree. "Severus, Harry is not only James' child, he's also Lily's."

Snape closed his eyes briefly to fight the pain her name brought. "If I must go fetch the brat, then fine," he muttered grudgingly.

"Wonderful." Dumbledore smiled, his eyes shining with that damn twinkle. "And don't worry about your Slytherins. They should be fine with you gone."

Snape sneered as he exited. Today was not his day.

 

 

 

The sneer was still present as he walked past the houses on Privet Drive. Oh, how bland they all were! Every house seemed to be composed of the same brown bricks, surrounded by the same white fence, the grass cut to the same short height.

Number 4 was no exception to this uniformity. Snape went up to the door and knocked. Potter, he thought sourly, you better have a good reason to have not replied to those letters.

A moment later, the door opened. A large whale of a man stood there. "Can I help you?" he said in an obviously forced polite tone.

"I am here for Mr. Potter," Snape said.

The man's face paled. "No one by that name lives here." With that, he slammed the door shut.

Snape was baffled. Whatever he was expecting the man to do, this was definitely not it. By the pallor on his face, he was clearly scared for some reason. He knocked again.

The door opened, but it wasn't the man this time. Instead, it was a very familiar skinny woman...

"You!" she shrieked.

"Hello, Tuney," Snape said.

"The freak isn't here," Petunia Evans- or whatever her last name was now- snapped.

A freak? Snape's eyes narrowed. That didn't sound like someone who doted on Harry Potter. "And where is he?" he asked coldly.

Before Petunia could answer, a boy appeared, his body almost as big as the other man. "Mummy!" he whined. "The freak broke into my room!"

Instantly, Petunia turned to him, her disgust and anger all but evaporated. "Don't worry, Dudleykins," she crooned. "Mummy will talk to him."

"May I come in?" Snape broke in silkily. "Your neighbors might be wondering why you're being so rude to your guests."

Petunia flinched. "Get in."

Snape stepped inside, his cloak billowing behind him. "Now where is Mr. Potter? Don't lie, Tuney, I know he's here."

"Vernon..." Petunia whispered worriedly.

"We don't know what you're talking about!" the fat man, Vernon, snapped.

"Vernon," Petunia repeated more urgently. "Just get the brat in here."

"Boy!" Vernon shouted. "Get down here!"

Soft footsteps alerted the presence of a fourth person. Then a boy, one who looked no more than eight or nine by his height, came over. Snape's eyes widened slightly. This was Harry Potter? This scrawny little child? Snape knew at once that he had been wrong about one thing: Potter had not been spoiled rotten. If anything, Petunia's son, her "Dudleykins," was the spoiled one.

Potter lifted his head and looked at Snape with achingly familiar eyes. "Hello," he said politely.

"Hello," Snape said, feeling uncharacteristically awkward and uncertain. He pulled himself together. "My name is Severus Snape. I am a professor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Witchcraft?" Potter tilted his head to one side. "Like magic?"

"Mummy, the freak used that word!" Dudley shouted.

Potter flinched and dropped his gaze.

"Silence!" Snape pulled out his wand and cast a Silencing Charm on him.

"What did you do to my son?" Vernon roared.

"I merely shut him up so he can save his vocal chords. You're welcome," Snape drawled. He caught a glimpse of a grin on Potter's face and felt a flash of satisfaction.

"Mr. Potter," Snape addressed the small boy.

"Y-yes, sir?" Potter's head shot up nervously, half-grin gone.

"Has anything... unusual happened around you?"

"Yes..." Potter replied. "Was that m-magic?"

"Indeed," Snape said.

A look of awe crossed over Potter's features. "So you're saying that I'm a- a wizard."

Snape dipped his head. "And so were your parents."

"My parents were drunks," Potter said, frowning. "They got killed in a car crash."

Snape whipped around to face the other adults. "What have you been telling Potter?"

"He's a freak," Petunia snapped. "Just like his parents. It's not our fault they got themselves killed."

Rage filled Snape's chest, but he pushed it down behind his shields. "His parents did what any parent would do for their children: die for them."

"So it is my fault they died," Potter said quietly.

"No, it's not," Snape said fiercely. "I will explain as much as I can to you, but first we need to get your school supplies."

"But I don't have any money," Potter protested.

"Mr. Potter, believe me, you do have money. If you let me, I will escort you to Diagon Alley."

"He's not going anywhere!" Petunia said. "We've tried for years to squash out the freakishness from him."

"You may as well ask for the sun to disappear. Neither are happening anytime soon. So, Mr. Potter, what is your answer?"

The boy looked between his aunt and uncle and Snape. "Okay."

Snape nodded and headed for the door.

"Wait," Vernon said, "what about my son?"

Dudley glared at Snape angrily, unable to voice just how much he loathed him.

"It'll wear off," Snape said dryly. He heard a stifled snort and resisted the urge to smile. "Come, Mr. Potter. We have a lot to do."

"Coming."


	2. A Little Help from a Snake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets a magical snake that serves as a guide to the wizarding world. Good thing, too, because not everything is as it seems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Known pairing(s): Harry/Tom
> 
> Extra: Slytherin Harry, Dumbledore bashing
> 
> ‘...’ is Parseltongue
> 
> Currently being written as separate story

He was used to being called "boy" and "freak" by his relatives. For the first few years of his life at number four, Privet Drive, he genuinely thought that those were his names. It wasn't until preschool, when his teacher asked him why he put "Freak" at the top of his assignment that he learned that his name was Harry Potter.

Of course, that didn't change anything, really. He was still called "boy" and "freak," except when there were other people around. But at least now Harry felt a little better. Personally, he thought Harry was a better name than Dudley, but he would never share this thought out loud. To do so would earn him a punishment, usually some kicks and punches followed by Harry being thrown into the cupboard under the stairs. Not that he hadn't endured enough of that. Both Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon found every single thing he did to be suspicious, and if Harry was even slightly off, he was punished.

Dudley, though, was perfect in their eyes. He was their "ickle Dudleykins," their precious, and more importantly, normal son. Nothing he did earned him a punishment. In fact, his parents sang praises at everything he did, no matter how badly he finished something.

In school, for example, Dudley had gotten C's on his report cards. Aunt Petunia found that as a perfectly plausible excuse to celebrate. Harry foolishly believed they would have been proud of him when he received all A's and a B. Instead, he had been shoved into his cupboard with the promise of no food for a week for daring to do better than their son. So Harry learned to deliberately fail every assignment, even if he was actually intellectually advanced for his age.

Unlike Dudley, Harry was forced to do all the work. Every Saturday, he was given a list of chores to finish by the end of the day. Vacuum the living room, dust the furniture, clean the windows, tend to the garden, you name it. The garden was probably Harry's favorite chore, as it was pretty much the only time he got to spend any time outdoors. It was during one particular summer that everything changed.

Harry was almost ten years old, not that the Dursleys celebrated or even bothered to remember his birthday, when he heard a soft hissing. Curious, he turned just in time to see a few blades of grass quiver. Harry glanced back at the house; the others had left for the water park, leaving Harry all by himself. Normally, he would have had company in the form of Arabella Figg, but his relatives had conveniently forgotten to call her over.

Safe in the knowledge that he wouldn't be beaten for slacking off, Harry cautiously crawled over to where he had spotted the movement. He grabbed a stick and carefully parted the grass to reveal a slender black shape.

'Pssh! Tiny hatchling dared to disturb me!'

"Sorry," Harry said automatically. "I didn't realize you were resting." He suddenly realized something. "Wait, how am I talking to you?"

The snake gazed up at him, its stance no longer threatening, merely curious. 'You do not know?' it asked.

'Um, no,' Harry said, unknowingly slipping into the snake's language.

'What is your name?'

'Harry. Harry Potter.'

'Well, Harry, make yourself comfortable,' the snake hissed. 'I have a lot to tell you.'

 

 

 

And boy, did the snake have a lot of information. 'So you're saying,' Harry said, trying to comprehend everything he had learned the past twenty minutes, 'that my parents were not drunks that died in a car crash and that they're... magical?'

'Indeed, hatchling.'

'And I'm famous?' Harry added with no small amount of distaste.

'Yes.'

'Can I use magic?' Harry wondered, looking at his hands.

'I'm afraid at this age it is not easy,' the snake told him. 'But once you get your letter, you will be able to enter the magical world and learn.'

'Wow, I can't wait!' Harry said excitedly. His eyes dimmed slightly. 'That's still another year.'

'But you know more than you did yesterday,' the snake reminded him. 'You can use this knowledge to your advantage.'

Harry looked back at the house again. 'I could, couldn't I?'

The snake hissed in delight.

'Well, until they get back, I better continue on with my chores. Thank you... er- I didn't get your name.'

'I do not have a name,' the snake said. 'But you may grant me one.'

Harry sat back and looked the snake over. 'How about Azure?' he suggested. 'Because your scales are black, but in the light, they reflect blue.'

'Perfect,' the snake hissed. 'I like that very much.'

'Goodbye,' Harry said. 'Will you still be around?'

'Of course, hatchling,' Azure reassured him. 'Good luck.'

 

 

 

The looks of absolute terror on Uncle Vernon's and Aunt Petunia's were something that Harry would treasure until the end of time.

"What are you saying, boy?" Uncle Vernon demanded, trying to intimidate Harry into silence.

For the first time, it didn't work. Harry merely laughed. "You know exactly what I'm saying, Uncle Vernon," he said. "I know I'm a wizard. And I know of my... fame." Ugh, he didn't like the sound of that at all.

"What do you want?" Aunt Petunia asked fearfully.

"I want you to stop treating me like I'm inferior," Harry told her. He could see Uncle Vernon's face starting to turn purple. "I'm not saying you have to treat me like royalty or anything like that. No, simply do not lay a hand on me and I will leave you alone."

"Are you threatening us?" Uncle Vernon thundered.

Harry's cold green eyes locked onto his. "No, of course not. I'm promising you."

His uncle made a move to lunge at him, but Aunt Petunia stopped him. "Vernon, don't argue," she pleaded.

"Fine." Uncle Vernon forced himself to relax. "Anything else?"

"I would like Dudley's second bedroom," Harry said.

His uncle went to protest but quickly gave in.

 

 

 

From then on, Harry was finally living a somewhat better life. It took very stern words from Aunt Petunia to get Dudley to leave Harry alone. Predictably, Dudley was furious. No more Harry Hunting meant he had to find other ways to have fun. He tried to turn to bullying other kids, but Harry stood up to him, and Dudley stopped. There was no way Harry was going to allow others to be victimized like he had been.

Harry's reputation as a dangerous and mentally ill child, courtesy of Dudley, began to dissipate and although Harry didn't gain any friends, teachers began to revamp their opinion of him. His grades went back up, reflecting the brilliant child he really was, all the while pushing Dudley in the background.

Dudley was still praised for his mediocre grades, but his cousin wasn't punished like he would have been, much to Dudley's disappointment. So many things were going wrong. He couldn't even blame Harry for anything anymore!

Harry quietly enjoyed watching Dudley sulk as he ate full meals at the table.


	3. The House of Badgers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets Sorted into Hufflepuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Known pairing(s): Harry/Cedric (eventual)
> 
> Extra: Voldemort is dead, Potters live, Hufflepuff Harry, Harry is a sweet, innocent bean, fluffy story (no/minimal angst)
> 
> Currently as finished, separate story

"Mum, get off!" Harry groaned as Lily continued pressing kisses over his face.

She lifted her head, smiling fondly at her son. "I'm sorry, Harry. We're just going to miss you, you know that."

"Remember to write to us," James added.

"I will."

"Every day," Sirius piped up.

"I doubt Harry will have time to write every day," Lily pointed out.

"I see Ron," Harry said, craning his head to get a better look at the taller boy.

"Well, we'll see you during the holidays, Prongslet," James said.

"I'll miss you." Harry hugged his parents and godfather happily before running off to join Ron.

"I wonder which house he'll be in," Lily mused.

"Gryffindor, obviously," Sirius said automatically.

"He hardly gets into the same kind of trouble you two have, even with your encouragement," Lily said, giving them both a hard stare.

James and Sirius grinned at her sheepishly. "Whoops."

"Honestly, you two are grown men. Act like it."

"Where's the fun in that?"

 

 

 

"Are you ready?" Ron said as he and Harry sat down in a compartment.

"You bet," Harry said. "I can't wait to see Uncle Moony again."

"Me, neither. Hey, want to play chess?"

"Sure."

Harry had never won a single game against Ron when it came to chess, but he still enjoyed every second of it. Today was no different.

"Checkmate," Ron said after ten minutes.

"Darn," Harry said, pouting, before brightening up. "Again!"

The compartment door opened as they were playing their third game. "So it's true?" the blonde boy said upon seeing Harry. "Harry Potter is starting this year."

Harry beamed. "Yep! And you are?"

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Ron coughed slightly, and Draco whipped his head around. "Think my name's funny, do you?" he said more harshly. "No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand.

Harry looked between Ron and Draco, clearly torn. "Can't we all be friends?" he asked. His mother had taught him not to judge someone based on their blood status, family, or house.

Both other boys looked taken aback.

"I mean, who says I can only have one friend?" Harry went on. "So, Draco, I will accept your friendship if you promise not to be mean." He looked at Ron. "That means you have to be nice, too."

"Fine," Ron said. Draco nodded in reluctant agreement.

"Great." Harry yanked Draco down on the seat next to him. "You can sit with us."

The trolley witch came around, and Harry bought a little of everything. "Here," he said, holding out a chocolate frog to Ron.

Ron looked surprise. "Really?" he said hopefully.

"Friends share."

Grinning, Ron set down the sandwich his mother had packed him and took it.

 

 

 

A tearful Neville Longbottom opened the door. "Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

Ron and Draco shook their heads.

"I'll help you look," Harry offered.

Neville brightened. "Okay."

They returned moments later, toad in Neville's hands.

 

 

 

They arrived at Hogwarts and were taken to the Great Hall for the Sorting ceremony.

Neville was Sorted into Gryffindor, while Draco went to Slytherin. Harry came shortly after and practically skipped up to the stool.

"Well, well. Look who we have here," the hat said.

"Hello," Harry chirped.

The hat chuckled. "Aren't you just chipper this morning?"

Harry most definitely was; everyone could practically taste his excitement.

"Hmm... A thirst for knowledge, ambition to do well, making friends already. I believe you would do best in- HUFFLEPUFF."

Gryffindor looked a bit disappointed that the savior of the wizarding world wasn't in their house, but they cheered nevertheless. Hufflepuff was giving Harry a standing ovation.

Harry sat down next to Susan Bones, who beamed at him. "Guess we're housemates," she said.

"Yep!" Harry grinned. He looked up at the staff table. Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling, Sprout was trying to recover from her shock, and Remus was smiling at Harry, who returned it happily.

Ron was among the last few first years to be Sorted; he joined Neville in Gryffindor.

Dumbledore gave a few announcements before food appeared on the tables.

"I don't think anyone expected to see you in Hufflepuff," Ernie Macmillan said.

"Me, neither," Harry said. "But, honestly, I don't really care what house I'm in. I just want to do well."

"That's a good attitude to have," Justin Finch-Fletchley said. "What do you think your parents will say?"

"Knowing my dad and Sirius, they'll probably have heart attacks," Harry said with a laugh. This was going to be a great seven years, he could feel it.


	4. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry learns some hard truths about those he thought he could count on.
> 
> “So you’re planning on having me die? Not if I can help it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Known pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Luna/Neville, background Ron/Hermione
> 
> Extra: character bashing, smart Harry, canon divergence after fourth year

If someone were to ask just what kind of person Harry Potter was, the answer would probably have some combination of the following: Boy-Who-Lived, the savior of the wizarding world, a Gryffindor, just like his father (except for the eyes; they look like his mother's), spoiled, arrogant, a brat.

But they were wrong. So wrong. Harry Potter had a mask; not even the great Albus Dumbledore could see through it.

The thought of the older wizard, Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin (first class), Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, filled Harry with rage, but he didn't give it away other than a slight tightening of his fists.

"Harry?" Hermione Granger said, concerned. Or at least, it sounded like concern. No, Hermione was another person Harry didn't like. She had been paid- from Harry's vault, nevertheless- to be his friend.

"I'm fine," Harry said, smiling at her with what looked to be a grateful smile.

"You sure, mate? You kinda spaced out again." Ronald Weasley said all this through a mouthful of chicken. Harry refrained from wrinkling his nose.

"Ron, chew with your mouth close," Hermione scolded him.

"Sorry," Ron said, though Harry knew he wouldn't be stopping anytime soon. "But you were spacing out, Harry."

"Just a headache," Harry replied. _From two annoying Gryffindors sitting beside me_.

"Is it You-Know-Who?" Hermione asked, peering at him closely.

"No, just a regular headache." And it was regular; he was around them enough to be used to it.

"What do we have today?"

"Double Potions," Hermione said, having memorized their schedule.

Ron groaned, and Harry, knowing it was expected of him, rolled his eyes. "Greasy git," Ron muttered.

While Hermione went on a rant about respecting authority, Harry glanced over and met Neville's gaze. He looked sympathetic, and Harry wished he was sitting with him instead of the other two, but it would be too suspicious.

After learning of Ron's and Hermione's ulterior motives, Harry had sought out Neville's company. They became close, despite the interference of the other two; Ron would drag Harry away to discuss Quidditch or play chess, and Hermione would reprimand Harry, saying he needed to focus on his studies. Later, after the Triwizard Tournament, Harry overheard Dumbledore speaking to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny and learned more of the betrayal. Dumbledore brought up Neville and ordered them to try and break apart Harry’s growing friendship with him. Harry’s response was to get even closer to Neville, and they trained even harder. They were learning more advanced spells and skills; Expelliarmus wouldn't do much against a powerful wizard like Voldemort.

Luna Lovegood, a fourth-year Ravenclaw, joined them, having Seen what they were doing and wanting to help them. Her vacant expression was a mask, similarly to Harry's Gryffindor one, and she was not as dreamy as she liked to show. Being in Ravenclaw gave the trio a new advantage with Luna observing her fellow housemates with her wide, curious stare. She was able to pick up potential allies, though at the moment, there were not that many.

It was the Slytherins that distrusted Dumbledore the most, especially with the blatant bias he showed toward Gryffindor. It was too bad they didn't have eyes within that house; many of their parents were high up in the Ministry.

Luna gave a cryptic message one evening, telling Harry that three would become four given another week at most.

That fourth turned out to be Draco Malfoy, who approached Harry one day and, under the guise of sneering at the Golden Trio, hinted that he needed to talk to Harry.

So they met up. Harry was surprised, but pleased, when Draco said he wanted to help whatever it was Harry was doing. He had noticed the slight difference in Harry's attitude and seen him with Neville and Luna sneaking out at night.

Three did become four as Luna had predicted, and Draco joined them in the Room of Requirement. Over the next few months, they trained, going over old skills and picking up new.

After one particularly good session, Harry had dismissed the small group. Luna and Neville left, but Draco remained behind.

"Is something wrong, Draco?" Harry had asked worriedly.

He was caught off guard when Draco grabbed him and pulled him close, lips pressed against Harry's. This wasn't the first time Harry had been kissed; Cho had surprised him just before Christmas break. But it had been wet due to Cho still grieving over Cedric's death and hadn't made an impact on Harry other than the certainty that he preferred the same sex. But Draco's lips left a warm feeling inside his chest, one that begged for more.

They had broken apart briefly, green eyes boring into silver. "I've been wanting to do that since fourth year," Draco admitted.

"Too bad I didn't know I liked boys at the time, then," Harry replied.

Neither Neville nor Luna were surprised when Harry told them he and Draco were now dating. It had been quite obvious to Neville, even with his mediocre observing skills, and Luna might have Seen it, though she never confirmed it.

In Potions, he and Neville had begun partnering up. At first, the Slytherins had been waiting for something to happen- both boys were terrible at Potions- but to everyone's surprise, they brewed the Draught of Peace perfectly; even Professor Snape was unable to find fault in them.

Professor Snape wasn't the only one surprised by Harry's sudden increase in marks; all the professors were delighted with the exception of Dolores Umbridge. The Ministry-appointed DADA professor was always looking for a reason to give Harry detention, it seemed, but Harry never rose to the bait. No, Harry was taking quite a Slytherin approach, not that anyone really made that connection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drarry was the first slash pairing I got into (before I even started reading Harry Potter, actually!), and this came to mind
> 
> 8/3/19 edit: I don’t really like Drarry as much as I used to, so the likelihood of this being extended is close to nil, but I’ll keep this up


	5. Master of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Ginny go back in time to fix the damage Dumbledore has made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Known pairing(s): Harry/Ginny
> 
> Extra: character bashing, Master of Death, time travel

They were trapped. Harry's eyes flickered from one corner of the room to another. Beside him, Ginny pressed up against him for support. He could sense her fear, but as always, she stood her ground fiercely.

The door was thrown open, and several wizards and witches raced inside.

"We've got them!" shouted Ron triumphantly.

"It's not like we were trying to hide," Ginny snapped. It was true; she and Harry knew that they would be caught eventually. May as well stop prolonging the inevitable.

Albus Dumbledore came forward, face full of sadness. But neither Ginny nor Harry were fooled. His eyes gave away his true feelings; he was smug. "My boy," he said in a placating manner.

"Not your boy," Harry growled.

"Don't speak to the Headmaster like that!" Hermione said, wand out.

"But he's allowed to walk all over me like I'm dirt?" Harry countered, sneering at his ex-best friend.

"This is what I was afraid of," Dumbledore said. "You have grown dark, Harry. And you have dragged young Ginny along with you."

"He has not dragged me along!" Ginny shouted. "I am perfectly capable of defending myself!"

"Harry," Dumbledore continued, "I will give you one more chance. Come back to us, and all will be forgiven."

"Oh, really? Why do I have a hard time believing that?" Harry sent him a sneer that Snape would have been proud of.

Dumbledore's eyes hardened. "You will rejoin the light or else."

"Or else what?" Harry said, already having a feeling he knew what that or else was.

He turned out to be right when one of the Order members hauled Remus into view. He had clearly been fighting; his scarred face was streaked with blood, and he looked scrawny.

"Well, Harry?" Dumbledore said even more smugly.

Remus shook his head. "No, don't listen to him, cub. You know he'll turn around and stab you in the back, that murdering bast-"

He was cut off by a Silencing Charm from the wizard that had brought him in.

"It was Sirius, wasn't it?" Ginny said, her eyes flashing with grief. "He didn't accidentally fall through the Veil, you killed him!"

Dumbledore didn't answer, but his silence spoke volumes.

"How could you?!" Harry shouted.

"It was for the greater good," Dumbledore said.

"And for the greater good, I'm supposed to give in calmly?" Harry spat.

"Yes, of course."

"Fat chance of that," Harry said.

"Ginny?" Ron looked at her hopefully.

"No."

"But you're my sister!"

"That's not what you were saying two weeks ago. I was a traitor for being civil to Draco."

"Because he's a slimy Death Eater!" Ron shouted.

"Enough, Ron," Dumbledore commanded. "Harry, I will give you one more chance."

"Shove it back up your ass, if you can reach," Harry retorted.

"Very well. You leave me no choice." Dumbledore turned to Remus.

It took only a split second to realize what he was about to do. "No!" Harry screamed, lunging forward. Ginny held him back as a bright green light shot from Dumbledore's wand and struck Remus directly in the chest.

Remus slumped over, eyes staring blankly at the wall.

Harry felt Ginny's arms around him, anchoring him, and struggled to focus on that rather than the sight of his beloved uncle lying dead on the floor. "Fuck you," Harry whispered.

Dumbledore's wand was trained on him now. "I am truly sorry, Harry," he said.

The green light came at him, and he knew no more.

 

 

 

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in the Shrieking Shack. He stood up and looked around. "Where am I?" he wondered out loud. The last thing he remembered was being hit with the Killig Curse.

"You were," said an unfamiliar voice.

Whirling around, Harry could not see who or what had spoken. "Hello?"

"You won't be able to see me, Master."

"Master?" Harry instantly thought of Voldemort.

"Not that kind of master."

"Oh. Then who are you?"

"I am Death."

"Death? You mean-"

"Yes, yes, the Cloak of Invisibility, the Death Stick, and the Resurrection Stone are all yours. You're the Master of Death, shall I go on?"

"But Dumbledore had the wand," Harry said, confused.

"Technically, yes. But he is not descended from the Peverell brothers. Only they can be the true Masters of Death."

Harry's mind was whirling. "Wait, where's Ginny?"

"Right now, her brother and that Granger girl are trying to convince her to leave you since you're dead and all."

Crack!

A small figure with flaming hair appeared.

"But they failed."

"Ginny!" Harry rushed to her side.

"Harry?" she mumbled, sitting up. "What are you- what am I-?"

"You're dead," Death said. "Both of you."

"Who-"

"That's Death," Harry explained. "Apparently, I'm the Master of Death."

Ginny stared at him. "But doesn't that mean you can't die?"

"No, he can die," Death said, "but he will always come back. And since you are his bonded, you will share his abilities, albeit more limited."

"Where's Remus?" Harry asked.

"Remus? Ah, the werewolf. Yes, he crossed over shortly before you did. Quite upset, too, even though he was reuniting with his friends."

"Wait, if Harry can come back to life, why didn't he back there?" Ginny asked.

"He has to choose when he wants to come back."

"When? I can time travel?" Harry said.

"You can," Death replied.

Ginny grasped Harry's arm. "You know what this means? We can go back and stop Dumbledore. Sirius and Remus will still be alive!"

Harry's heart began to hammer in his chest. "But what time should we choose?"

“Third year,” Ginny said. “That was when Sirius broke out of Azkaban.”

"Excellent. And don't worry about your memories and abilities. They'll still be intact."

With that, Harry blacked out.

 

 

 

It was August 31st, the last day before Hogwarts started up again, when he met up with the Weasleys and Hermione. He pretended to be happy to see them, even though his insides clenched with fury.

When he saw Ginny, he had to force himself not to hug her and kiss right there and then. “Hi, Ginny.”

“Hello,” she said, playing the bashful little girl very convincingly.

They were reunited, and nothing was going to stop them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, if I made this into a full story, it won’t be as rushed as this.
> 
> I actually love the ship Hinny, even if I also enjoy reading Ginny!bashing stories, and I wanted to make something a little less common so this was the result


	6. Falsely Accused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The old Harry gets thrown into Azkaban for a crime he did not commit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Known pairing(s): none; just Sirius, Remus and Harry (family)
> 
> Extra: character bashing (gosh, I love those so much), more Slytherin-like Harry

Sirius paced the room, hands running through his dark hair. Hope was rising in his chest for the first time in two years. Harry was finally free; he was coming home. Against his will, his mind thought back to when he was first told.

_Flashback_

_"Albus!" Sirius shot to his feet as the Headmaster stepped through the Floo. "What happened? Where's Harry? Please tell me he's alright?"_

_Dumbledore had a grave expression on his face, eyes lacking their customary twinkle. "I will tell you when everyone is here."_

_Sirius slumped back down in his chair, heart hammering in his chest. Dumbledore wouldn't have held back if Harry were okay. That could mean one of two things: Harry was dead or he was severely injured. Neither boded well for the ex-convict._

_He barely noticed the Order members coming in and taking seats around the dining room. What he did notice was Hermione and Ron together, which confused him._ They aren't of age yet; why are they here?

_His attention was brought back to Dumbledore as he cleared his throat. "I am afraid I bring grave news: Harry Potter is in Azkaban."_

_Cries of horror filled the room._

_"What?" Sirius stared, gray eyes wide with disbelief. "Albus, that can't be right. Harry would never break the law."_

_"That is what I have thought as well, my boy," Dumbledore said, eyes sympathetic. "However, it seems we were wrong."_

_"What evidence?" Remus asked. "What did he do?"_

_"The Dursleys were found dead very early this morning," Dumbledore told him. "The Aurors checked Harry's wand and found that the Killing Curse had been fired."_

_Sirius shook his head. "There has to be a mistake. What if he was framed?" he said desperately._

_"Harry killed his relatives," Dumbledore said. "All evidence supports it."_

_"That's what everyone thought about me that night," Sirius reminded him. "But it wasn't me."_

_"He's right, Albus," Remus said. "Surely, there is more to this than what meets the eye."_

_"The entire area was checked," Moody said. "Nobody else was there but Potter."_

_"To think we were friends with him," Ron muttered._

_Sirius whipped around, but Hermione spoke up._

_"I know! I mean, I knew he didn't always get along with them, but I never thought he'd actually wish harm."_

_Sirius couldn't believe they were taking it for granted that Harry was guilty. "You believed it when it was proven I was innocent."_

_"That's different," Hermione said, chin raised defiantly.  
_

_"How?" Sirius snapped. "How is it different from me?"_

_"That's enough, Sirius," Dumbledore said warningly. "Harry is guilty, and now we must move forward. Find out how to take care of Voldemort."_

_"Well, you're not doing it here," Sirius growled, ignoring the normal flinching of the name._

_Dumbledore was taken aback, as was the rest of the group. "Excuse me?"_

_"I'm telling you to make your plans elsewhere." Sirius' voice was cold. "Get out. Now!" he barked when no one moved._

_The Order members scrambled to leave. Remus went to speak, but Sirius turned away. "Not now, Remus. Leave me alone. Please." He whispered the last word, voice breaking. Remus hesitated a second longer before exiting._

_Flashback over_

Sirius' heart clenched with fear for Harry. He knew better than most the effects Dementors had on the mind. And Harry was still a child; he was still very innocent compared to Sirius when he had been imprisoned, even with all he had been through.

The Daily Prophet had had a field day, he recalled bitterly, tearing apart Harry's delicate reputation. Now they were desperately trying to save face, which was difficult due to Harry's celebrity status.

Everyone had believed Rita Skeeter, not hesitating to talk shit about Harry whenever he was brought up. But they were also terrified, as they didn't have someone to rely on to defeat Voldemort. When it was announced that Harry had been cleared of all charges, they rejoiced. Their savior was back; he would defeat Voldemort like he was destined to do and be hailed a hero once more.

Or at least, that's what they thought. A more vindictive side of Sirius was looking forward to seeing Harry's reaction, knowing that he would not be as forgiving as he would he expected to be.

The Order of the Phoenix filed in, all looking exuberant. They, too, were eager to see Harry, as if they hadn't been among those that slandered him.

Dumbledore came in at last, eyes twinkling as he brought in the familiar figure of Harry Potter. He was immediately welcomed with open arms and friendly pats on the back. No one noticed that anything was different.

No one but Sirius. He took in the sight of the too-skinny boy, his skin waxy and hanging loosely to his bones. He looked similar to Sirius when he had broken out, and that terrified them. And his eyes, those beautiful green eyes that used to be full of life, looked haunted and dull.

"Oh, Harry!" Ginny simpered, throwing her arms around him. "We missed you so much! It must have been terrible in there! Don't worry, you're safe now."

Harry bristled and pushed her off. "Missed me?" he repeated coldly.

"Of course, we missed you," Ron butted in. "We're your friends."

Harry's gaze turned on him. "And yet you didn't consider, for one moment, that something was off."

"Harry," Dumbledore broke in, smiling indulgently, "I'm sure they are regretful they didn't believe you."

"We are," Hermione and Ron said together.

"Right." Harry took a step away.

"Now that you're free," Dumbledore went on, "I am glad to announce that you will be officially a member of the Order of the Phoenix with your friends."

Ron and Hermione puffed up proudly, and everyone waited for Harry to accept. But he didn't. He just laughed, a cold, bitter laugh that sounded nothing like himself. "Oh, you weren't kidding. Well, the Headmaster, the answer is no. I will not be joining you."

"You can't be serious!" Hermione shouted.

"No, that's Sirius, right there," Harry said, jutting his head toward his godfather. "You know, the man that had also been falsely imprisoned without a trial," he added, voice rising with every word.

Sirius closed his eyes. It was the exact same argument he had given to the Ministry, but they hadn't listened.

"Harry, we're sorry! How many times do we have to say it?" Hermione said.

"You may as well save your breath because we are no longer friends."

Hermione gaped at him, but when Harry showed no sign of budging, she raced out of the room, tears in her eyes. Ron glared at Harry before following.

"Is there anything else, sir?" Harry said with forced politeness.

"No." Dumbledore was clearly unhappy. "This meeting is over."

The Order members followed him out of the room, casting surprised glances at Harry, as if they couldn't believe he was acting this way. Once they were gone, Harry turned to Sirius.

"I appreciate what you've tried to do," he said quietly. "I- I didn't expect for anyone to stand up for me."

"Harry, pup," Sirius said, heart aching at the vulnerable note in his godson's voice. "I will always stand by you. You should know that."

Harry shivered, eyes filling with tears. "How could you stand it there for twelve years?" he rasped. "I could barely stand it for two."

Sirius brought him into his arms. Harry let out a sob and buried his face in his chest. "It was terrible. I- I kept hearing my parents. B-before Voldemort killed them."

"Shh, it's alright now. You're free." Sirius rubbed circles over Harry's back. He pulled out some chocolate from his pocket. "This will help."

Harry took it gratefully and bit into it. Color flooded back into his pale face. "Thank you, Padfoot."

"You should get some rest," Sirius said. "No doubt the Ministry will be wanting to hear from you soon."

Harry balled up his fist. "Well, the Ministry can go to hell," he snarled.

Sirius didn't disagree. "Dumbledore wants you to get back to school for your seventh year."

Harry growled. "I don't really have much of a choice, do I?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Fine." Harry straightened up. "But I will not be playing by his rules anymore."

With that, Harry pushed past Sirius and headed up the stairs. Sirius smiled ruefully. "Neither will I, pup," he murmured. "Neither will I."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In most of the stories that follows this prompt, even Sirius and Remus don’t question Harry’s supposed guilt. Well, I decided to change that (but I still made it so Harry’s “friends” thought he was)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was silent for a moment as they all stared. Then Ron spoke.
> 
> "Harry?"
> 
> Harry Potter had been missing since his third year. Now he’s back, and he has work that needs to get done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Known pairing(s): none
> 
> Extra: character bashing, vampire!Harry

"I bring good news."

Those four words had everyone clamoring for answers. Their eyes were bright as they gazed at the Headmaster, their voices raised with hope they had not felt in years.

"Lord Sherwood of the vampire clan has agreed to meet," Albus Dumbledore announced, eyes twinkling.

"That's wonderful!" Molly Weasley exclaimed, beaming. "How did you convince him?"

"What does it matter?" Elphias Doge said gruffly. He had known that his friend could do it. After all, no one could resist Dumbledore's power.

"When will we meet him?" Hestia Jones asked eagerly.

"He has agreed to meet in two days," Dumbledore replied.

"Two days?" The motherly instinct in Molly was kicking in. "But this place is still so filthy! What will Sherwood think?"

"I doubt it will matter given the circumstances," Dumbledore said, though everyone knew it was pointless to try and reason with Molly once she had made up her mind. "Remus," he went on, turning away from Molly, "any news on the werewolves?"

Remus shook his head. "I'm afraid they are quite stubborn in their alliance," he told Dumbledore.

"That's all right, my boy," the Headmaster said, not seeing the flash of anger in Remus' amber eyes. "If that is all, this meeting is over."

The Order broke apart, still whispering excitedly under their breaths.

"Remember to be polite to Lord Sherwood," Molly was saying as she ushered her children out.

"We know," Ron said, more focused on his rumbling stomach. Honestly, he was eighteen now; he didn't need to be treated like he was still a child.

"I wonder if he's single," his younger sister, Ginny, said. If the rumors were true, then this Sherwood person was young, only eighteen or nineteen like Ron himself. No one knew how he looked due to his territory being unplottable, but the few that have been lucky enough to glimpse him have spoken reverently. If Sherwood was as handsome as they were making him out to be, then Ginny would have to act fast to catch his attention. It shouldn't be difficult— after all, even the toughest boys had given in to her beauty.

"He'll probably see you as a snack," Ron said dismissively.

"Don't be daft, Ron," Hermione scolded her boyfriend. “Dumbledore wouldn’t have been trying to talk to him ignored he thought he’d be a threat."

To be honest, Hermione Granger did not know much about vampires, which frustrated her to no end. She was the brightest witch of her generation— Dumbledore said so himself— and she took great pride in this. It was only too bad the Ministry was so corrupt and prejudiced; she wanted to be the Minister one day, but no one ever listened. What she failed to realize was that she had to work her way up; she couldn't just expect to obtain a high-ranking job right from the start.

Despite Hermione's words, Molly was suddenly worried. She had almost lost Ginny in her first year when she had been possessed by a diary that had belonged to Tom Riddle, Voldemort's real name. Harry Potter had rescued her, which reinforced Molly's belief that they would be married once they graduated. Unfortunately, he vanished after third, causing a great panic among the wizarding world.

Harry Potter had defeated Lord Voldemort when he was a baby, coming out of the fight unscathed except for the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. The Ministry began looking for clues, sending Aurors first to the Privet Drive to see if they knew. To their surprise, the Dursleys expressed satisfaction in Harry's disappearance. They were brought in for questioning, where Vernon and Petunia revealed they never wanted their freak of a nephew— as they so kindly worded it— to be dumped onto their steps in the middle of the night.

Minerva McGonagall had been enraged when she heard of this, willingly going in and giving her memories of that night when she and Dumbledore had dropped Harry off. The Headmaster was also questioned, and he gave his usual lines of "It's a slight misunderstanding" and "greater good" nonsense. Needless to say, his reputation plummeted downward, though there were still enough people that still supported him to keep him in some form of power.

Life went on after that. What would have been Harry's fourth year was memorable for the Hufflepuffs, as they won the glory of the year through the Triwizard Tournament, in which Cedric Diggory won. Fifth year was when Voldemort came back. Severus' Dark Mark had suddenly burned and darkened, signaling his reappearance. The only plus side was that Sirius Black was cleared of all charges after Peter Pettigrew was caught and admitted under Veritaserum that he had framed Sirius. The next years went by tensely until just now, the beginning of the summer after seventh year, when Sherwood agreed to meet up with the Order of the Phoenix.

Dumbledore was very pleased. Once it was known that he had accomplished a feat that had been previously deemed impossible, his reputation would be back up as it had been.

Or so he thought.

 

 

 

"My Lord," Severus Snape said, bowing his head.

"Severus." The other person dipped his head in return. "What news do you bring?"

"The Headmaster believes his plans are working," Severus replied.

A soft chuckle made Severus' own lips quirk up ever so slightly. "I cannot wait until he sees me. Would it be too much to hope that he will have a heart attack?"

"I believe it would be, although I would be more focused on your... friends."

His master's green eyes gleamed. "Oh, yes. Granger and Weasley. Still insufferable?"

"Very much so. I am glad that they have graduated at last."

"Indeed. Shall we go see how the training is going?"

"We shall." Severus waited until Hadrian Sherwood was on his feet before following him out of the room.

 

 

 

For once, most of the Order members were early to the meeting. They all stood around the dining room, wondering just what kind of person Lord Sherwood would be. He was very secretive, almost as secretive as Severus, who only spoke when he had to.

Dumbledore came in, weyes twinkling as he surveyed the room. "Has Sherwood arrived?" he asked Sirius.

"Not yet," Sirius replied, smiling in warm welcome at the Headmaster. As soon as Dumbledore turned away, however, the smile dropped. _He was going to be in for a surprise_ , he thought viciously. His eyes locked with Severus', and he nodded slightly.

Severus blinked in acknowledgement and turned to face the door. A moment later, it opened to reveal their guest. "Greetings," he said, catching everyone's attention.

It was silent for a moment as they all stared. Then Ron spoke.

"Harry?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it’s been a while since I’ve posted on this story


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a particularly harsh beating, Harry wakes up and meets Death, a wisecracking, bored being that can’t wait to mess up Dumbledore’s plans with his new master

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Known pairing(s): Harry and Neville friendship
> 
> Extra: character bashing (mostly Dumbledore, possibly others), Master of Death, crack/humor, crack treated seriously (with exception to brief mentions of abuse)

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

The same could not be said about young Harry Potter, their nephew. He was an odd child, very odd, but it wasn't because of his quieter and calmer nature or how he seemed wiser beyond his age. It was because he was... different. Although young, Harry didn't know just yet that he was a wizard, and that set him apart from the Dursleys in of itself.

But that little difference was enough for his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia to treat him with the deepest loathing.

A shrill voice woke Harry up as usual. It was his aunt, who was reminding him to make breakfast and not to burn it. As if his uncle needed an excuse to beat him black and blue again.

Wincing, the ten-year-old got up and went into the kitchen. Normally, making breakfast wouldn't be so difficult, but he was very sore from the previous night, in which his cousin, Dudley, had gotten Harry in trouble by crying about him doing something freakish, and had a hard time staying awake.

This, unsurprisingly, led to the inevitable.

"Mum!" Dudley screamed. "I'm hungry!"

"Hurry up!" Aunt Petunia snapped at Harry.

Harry bit his tongue to keep from retorting that he couldn't speed up time. Although that would have been nice, he reflected wistfully. It would mean Dudley would get his food faster and Harry would move on from there.

Suddenly, the eggs, which had only just been put in the pan, transformed in front of his very eyes; they were now finished cooking.

Unfortunately, Aunt Petunia had turned around just at that moment and saw this. She shrieked in terror, and Uncle Vernon lumbered over as quickly as his large body would allow him.

"What is it, Pet?"

Aunt Petunia raised a shaking finger at Harry, whose eyes were wide with horror.

"What did you do, boy?!" Uncle Vernon demanded.

"I— I didn't— nothing. The eggs just cooked themselves."

That had been the wrong thing to say. Uncle Vernon's face went purple with rage. "Eggs don't cook themselves! Come here!"

He grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him out of the kitchen. Aunt Petunia went to console Dudley, telling him that he would get his eggs in a moment. Dudley pretended to cry plaintively, but Harry glimpsed the smug gleam in his eyes, knowing that Harry was in trouble again.

Uncle Vernon threw him onto the floor and slammed a large, meaty fist into his already damaged body.

Harry barely held in the gasp of pain; that would only anger his uncle further and prolong the punishment.

But as the hits kept coming and changed from fists to belt, he couldn't keep it in any longer and began crying, begging for him to stop.

"Little freak can't even take a few hits!" Uncle Vernon sneered, stomping down harshly on Harry's ankle.

There was a loud snap as it broke, and Uncle Vernon, deciding that he was finished, hauled Harry to his feet and threw him into the cupboard.

Harry laid there, pain shooting through every inch of his body without him even having to move. He could feel himself losing consciousness and allowed the brief respite gratefully.

For three days, Harry remained inside his cupboard, slipping in and out of consciousness. His licked his dry lips, wishing for water but also repulsed by the thought of it. His stomach rumbled; he had barely eaten in the last two weeks.

His relatives were going on with their lives as if there wasn't a damaged child under their roof. Harry was glad that it was the summer. They didn't have to invent excuses for his absences in school, and he didn't have any friends, so they didn't have to worry about that, either.

 

 

 

Petunia rapped on the door impatiently. Her precious Dudleykins was starving for breakfast, and Harry still hadn't woken up. "Get up! Now!" she shouted.

Nothing.

Vernon came over and wrenched the door open. "Boy, if you don't get moving—" He gasped suddenly.

"What is it, Vernon?" Petunia demanded.

Vernon slowly reached inside the cupboard and dragged out Harry's limp body. Petunia frantically checked his pulse; there was none.

"What did you do?" she whispered. Of course, she wasn't worried about Harry being dead. She was scared that the authorities would find out and arrest her husband.

"Nothing different from normal. It's not my fault the freak couldn't handle a little punishment."

"I know," Petunia assured him. "What are we going to do?"

Vernon's mind whirled. "Just bury him. We can say he ran away, the ungrateful freak. They'll believe us, they always have."

"Right. Well, get on with it." Petunia jumped up as Dudley wailed and rushed over.

Meanwhile, Vernon went to grab a shovel and drove to a park several miles away. He walked into the forest, diverted from one of the trails, and began digging some way away from the main paths. With any luck, this would be the end of the boy's freakish nature.

 

 

 

Harry groggily opened his eyes. The first thing he registered was that he was no longer in pain. The second thing was that he was in a park, but it wasn't the one by Privet Rrive. It was also empty and looked to be faded, as if he wasn't really there.

He turned, sensing someone approaching. A tall figure stood there— well, hovered might be a better word— a large cloak hiding its face, if it even had one.

"Master," a voice spoke, and the being bowed down.

"Master?" Harry echoed.

The being straightened up. "Of Death."

"Oh." Harry looked around. "So I'm dead?"

"Only temporarily. Now—" its voice became brisk— "to business."

Harry blinked as Death waved a hand, causing a couple of chairs to appear. "Sit down, Master."

"You don't have to call me Master," Harry said as he took a seat. "I'm just Harry."

"Very well, then, just Harry." A note of amusement crept into Death's voice. "First things first: Do you know what you are?"

"A freak?" Harry said uncertainly.

Death tutted. "You are most certainly not. You're a wizard."

"A what? That can't be right. I'm just Harry."

"I'm aware, just Harry."

Harry was pretty sure that, if Death had a face under that hood, he would be grinning.

"You are a wizard, a rather powerful one, at that."

"Is that why they hate me?" Harry asked.

"Afraid so. But fear not, child. They cannot hurt you anymore. Not while I'm here."

"But I'm dead," Harry protested. "How else would they be able to hurt me?"

"Ah, that's the thing, Harry. You cannot truly die. You are the Master of Death after all."

Harry blinked several times. "But then why am I here?"

"Well, you do 'die,' it's just not permanent."

"Oh." Harry's shoulders slumped. "Uncle Vernon isn't going to be happy with me."

"He wouldn't be happy if you cured cancer," Death scoffed. "But like I said, they can't hurt you."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Hush, Harry." Death snapped his fingers, and the chair transformed into a couch. "Just relax... and open your eyes."

Harry let his breath even out, his shoulders releasing the tension in them. Around him, the park seemed to darken until he could no longer see Death.

Then his eyes were snapping open, and he began to choke. Hacking, he hunched over and spat out chunks of dirt.

"Easy, there, just Harry. I know you're immortal, but we don't need you dying again so soon."

Harry glared up at Death. "I didn't ask to be buried," he griped. "Now how do I get back home?"

Death simply gripped Harry by the shoulder and whisked him away.

"What was that?" Harry demanded as he tried to regain his footing.

"That, just Harry, was Apparition," Death informed him. "You'll learn more about it when you're older, but basically, it's just traveling from Point A to Point B."

Harry grinned. Then he looked at the front door and gulped. "You'll stay with me?"

"Duh," said the supernatural being that was literally in charge of guiding spirits to the next phase.

The door was locked, so Harry had Death open it for him. "After you, Master just Harry."

Harry gave him a deadpanned look (no pun intended) and walked inside. Looking at the clock, he realized that Dudley would be getting up to grab a midnight snack pretty soon.

Sure enough, his cousin lumbered downstairs. When he saw Harry, he froze. "MUM! DAD! THE FREAK IS BACK!"

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia came rushing in, ready to comfort him, to date him he was probably just dreaming. Then they caught sight of Harry.

"How—?" Aunt Petunia stuttered.

"You little freak!" Uncle Vernon roared, though he looked pale instead of purple. "You can't even stay away, can you? Have to come back and ruin our perfectly normal lives some more?"

He raised a meaty fist, but before it could strike Harry, Death made himself known. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

All three of them shrieked.

"Who's the other freak?" Dudley screamed.

Death stuck a finger into his ear and flicked a piece of invisible crud. "No need to shout, kiddo. I'm right here."

Harry wanted to laugh. He was really liking Death more and more.

"All right, listen up, shitheads, because I'm only going to say this once. Don't mistreat Harry here, don't give him an immeasurable amount of chores— really, do them yourselves, you lazy fuckers— and let the poor kid eat. He's a growing boy." Death patted Harry's head.

"And if we don't?" Uncle Vernon snapped.

"When you die, I'll make sure you rot in hell. I am Death, after all."

"D-Death?" Aunt Petunia whimpered.

"Death. So treat Harry better or face my wrath. Now if you excuse us, we will be taking your son's second bedroom."

Dudley opened his mouth to protest, but Death pushed him aside and led Harry to the room.

"What about my stuff?" Harry asked as Death closed the door.

"What stuff?" Death muttered as he snapped his fingers, cleaning out the broken toys and replacing them with Harry's meager belongings.

Harry shrugged. He opened his mouth, then paused, biting his lip. "Do you have a face in there?" he asked, peering up into the hood.

"Really? Out of all the things you could have said, that's what you went with?" Despite his words, Death seemed rather amused. "I do not have a face, technically, but I can shapeshift."

"Show me!" Harry begged.

"Maybe tomorrow, Harry. You need to sleep. We have a lot to talk about, but it can wait. Okay?"

Harry nodded reluctantly. He _was_ pretty tired.


	9. The Dark Trio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We’ve seen plenty of stories where Harry is a Slytherin and/or a dark wizard, but what if Ron and Hermione were, too?
> 
> Inspired by tumblr user newmidnightmayor’s post

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Known pairing(s): Ron/Hermione, Golden Trio friendship
> 
> Extra: Slytherin! and Dark!Trio (but not necessarily evil), possible bashing (primarily of Dumbledore)

"— packed with Muggles, of course—"

Through narrowed eyes, Harry watched the red-haired family bustle past. Each of the four boys pushed a trunk much like Harry's own, and they had an owl.

One by one, they lined up and took off at a brisk pace, disappearing into the dividing barrier between platforms nine and ten. Harry looked around. No one seemed to have noticed. How odd. They weren't exactly being inconspicuous.

Shaking his head, Harry pushed his trunk so he was directly in line with the barrier. Then, like the red-haired family moments ago, he walked forward. He half expected to crash despite seeing six other people go through with no problem and was delighted when he emerged, blinking, to see the scarlet steam engine next to the platform.

He found an empty compartment near the end and tried to haul his trunk up the steps.

"Want a hand?" It was one of the red-haired boys he'd followed through the barrier.

"Yes, please," Harry panted.

"Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!"

With their help, Harry's trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.

"Thanks," said Harry.

"No problem, mate."

"Happy to help."

They went to rejoin their mother, and only then did Harry wipe the sweat from his forehead. He had experienced the gawking once when Hagrid quite loudly announced his presence, and that was enough to last a lifetime. Of course, Harry supposed with a shudder, he may as well get used to it.

He opened a book and began to read. Well, he was actually rereading. In the month between getting his supplies and boarding the train, he had read all of his required books and then some. He wondered what other books Hogwarts would have to offer.

As the train was taking off, the youngest redheaded boy opened the door. "Anyone sitting there? Everywhere else is full."

Harry shook his head and the boy sat down.

The boy looked at the book curiously. "I don't remember that being on the list," he said.

"It's not. I bought a couple extra ones that looked interesting," Harry replied.

"I barely touched any of mine so far. Anyway, name's Ron Weasley."

"I'm Harry Potter."

"Really?" Ron's eyes widened slightly. "Have you really got— you know..."

"The scar that Voldemort gave me? Yes."

If possible, Ron's eyes went even wider. "You said You-Know-Who's name! I'd have thought you, of all people would never dare to say it!"

"Can't really be scared of a name when I have barely any memory of that night," Harry pointed out.

"True." Ron changed the subject. "Heard you went to live with Muggles. What are they like?"

"They're all right. My aunt and uncle and cousin aren't, though. What about you?"

For some reason, Ron's expression darkened. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left— Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first."

"What does it matter what others expect? You don't have to live up to others' standards. I bet you'll do great."

Ron didn't reply, but Harry thought he was sitting a little bit straighter.

When a woman came by around half past twelve, Harry didn't hesitate to share what he bought with Ron. After all, that's what friends do, right?

Later, a round-faced boy knocked on their compartment door, looking tearful. "Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"I read this spell that could help," Harry said, jumping up at the chance of using magic. He stood up and took out his wand. "What's your toad's name?"

"Trevor," the boy said.

"Accio Trevor."

A moment later, a large brown shape came hurtling into Harry's hand.

"Trevor!" The round-faced boy looked very relieved as Harry handed him his toad. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I'm Neville, by the way."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Harry, and this is Ron."

"Thank you again." Neville left in higher spirits.

Ron had been silently gaping at Harry ever since the toad had appeared. "That was brilliant!"

"Thanks. I didn't really think it would work, honestly. The spell doesn't normally work on animate objects, the book said."

"The risk paid off, then," Ron said admirably.

The compartment door opened again. This time, it was a bushy-haired girl with large front teeth. "I saw what happened," she said. "Have you tried that spell before?"

"No, why?"

"First time? That was really good," the girl said, impressed. "I've tried a few spells myself before. They've all worked. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?”

"Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter."

"Are you really? I've read a lot about you. You're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Am I?" Harry said, feeling dazed. "I hadn't really looked at them." He had deliberately avoided them because he didn't want a reminder of his apparent fame. Perhaps he should reconsider...

"Oh, I wouldn't bother looking at them for just yourself," Hermione said, a hint of scorn in her voice. "Honestly, the way they talked about you made it sound as if you've been on many adventures. Have you?"

"No." Unless she counted hiding from idiotic cousins and vicious dogs.

"Then ignore what they say about you. But other than that, they're a very interesting read. Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, although I'm a bit unsure of where I want to go. Gryffindor sounds all right, so does Ravenclaw."

"All of my brothers and my parents are Gryffindors," Ron said glumly.

"Is it tradition for all members of a family to go to the same house?" Harry asked.

"Pretty much. The Malfoys are all Slytherin. Can't see that ever changing."

"Your parents were both Gryffindors," Hermione told Harry, taking a seat.

"Well, I don't really care what house I'm in," Harry decided. "I just want to do well."

"Me, too," Hermione said.

Ron nodded.

And thus, a friendship was born.

“What's your Quidditch team?" Ron asked after a moment of silence.

When he received two blank stares in response, Ron eagerly went into detail about the sport and everything involved, from the balls to the players and their positions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After getting more in depth with the HP fandom, I started to get a bit frustrated with the constant bashing of Ron and Hermione (and I’m guilty of it, too). I’m hoping this will be my next major HP fanfic


End file.
